


Something Else?

by demurely1



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Anger, Angst, F/M, Gen, Hugs, Love, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demurely1/pseuds/demurely1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This explains, develops and continues from the final scenes involving Mark and Beth at the end of Broadchurch Episode 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Else?

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://www.flickr.com/photos/44404210@N04/8628062524/)

_You know I love you, Beth_

_I know you say it, since you’ve been caught out!_ _Did Danny know about you and Becca?_

_No!  No, he didn’t, I swear.  Beth, please, why don’t we make an agreement just for tonight, eh? No bickering and no silences, let’s just find something else?_

Mark spoke so softly and wearily in contrast to Beth’s own challenging words, she turned her head sharply to look him in the eyes and hold his gaze.  She could almost feel him cowering from her next cutting remark; even so he remained immobile, as if ready to accept whatever she might say.

She knew he’d been like this for some days now, though she’d kept that knowledge at the back of her mind.  She hadn’t wanted to feel sympathy for his obvious depression, when she still felt so angry – about him – about Danny – about everything. 

Earlier, he’d returned from the harbour visibly upset by the confrontation he’d had with Jack and the other men – and too upset to explain it all. There were, apparently, more important issues with Chloe, who it seemed had known, or guessed, about Becca Fisher all along, prompting more fury from Beth.  The additional revelation that Chloe had a boyfriend and that she was having sex, just seemed to cap it all, whereas Mark had appeared completely deflated by everything, blaming himself.

Beth did, at least, understand his request for peace. She could sense he was close to tears and found she was aching for his pain, despite herself, and so softened her voice.

“What did you have in mind?” she queried, wrinkling her brow, while still holding his gaze.

Mark breathed in deeply, and looked back at her warily.

“Well, I was thinking about Danny and all those baby books we made. Perhaps, we could pull them out and remember all the good things?  You know, instead of.....”  He couldn’t finish his plea.

Beth felt the tears in her eyes, gulped quickly and nodded. “His baby box is in the sideboard,” she whispered.

“I’ll get it,” he said, disappearing out of the door.

Beth stared at the bedroom door for some seconds, before getting up, pulling on a cardigan and following after him.

...

She found him on his knees pulling filing boxes out onto the floor and pointed out the large buff- coloured box in the back corner.

Mark carried it over to the light and they sat down with it on the carpet, too eager to look inside rather than find anywhere more comfortable.  Immediately papers, toys, pictures and even baby clothes were appearing, evoking long forgotten memories.

Mark had had only a sketchy idea of what they would find – he knew there would be photo albums, trinkets from the christening and other baby stuff.  It was Beth who had selected, collected and added to the box of items; keeping, never discarding anything, from school or elsewhere that had graced the fridge door or kitchen wall, but periodically slipping them away in Danny’s box.

Soon they were recounting stories, smiling, even laughing at pictures, photos and memories.  Beth felt the terrible anger of the last few days lifting from her heart.  Mark listened to her laughter and watched her smiling face feeling his own despair start to melt away.

Finally, in the bottom of the box, Beth came upon a piece of ravelled plastic and, recognising it immediately, stilled as she carefully flattened it out with her thumbs. Mark leaned forward to read the hospital wrist band details of Baby Latimer.  They both shared again the rush of emotion, joy and happiness their tiny newborn son had brought.

Beth held the bracelet out to Mark and moved a hand to her belly, breathing in sharply. 

“Shhh.... it’s OK,” he whispered, moving quickly to reach his arms around her and pull her to him.  He sighed involuntarily and pressed his lips against her hair.  He knew she was in turmoil over her pregnancy, but didn’t want to provoke more discussion about that now. “Thank you for doing this with me, Beth.  I needed it.”

She pulled away and looked up at him. “I’ve missed Danny’s hugs,” she said. 

“I could stand in for him, if you like?” he offered.

Beth nodded and relaxed against him, threading her arms around him and making him gasp again.  

Mark held her face against his chest with one hand and stroked the other up and down her back, trembling, while the tears welled up in his eyes.  “I’ve missed yours,” he whispered.

....

It must have been minutes, before Beth pulled away and looked up at him again, saying something about getting back to bed.  They agreed to leave Danny’s box out – Liz would probably like to have a look through it; possibly Chloe too. 

Mark doused the lights again and led her by the hand back upstairs, stopping and checking on Chloe before returning to their own bed.

Beth lay on her pillow facing Mark as he climbed in and lay back.  “That was good,” she smiled, putting her hand on his arm. “I feel ....kind of... better, somehow.

Mark placed his own hand over hers and nodded, his eyes softening.

“And, I liked the hug too,” she added. “Would you mind holding me again?” she asked, as she moved to wrap her body over him, making him lift his arm so that she could place her head on his shoulder, and stretch her arm round his torso.

Tears welled up in Mark’s eyes as he dipped his head forward to kiss her hair.  He flicked off the bedside lights and pulled up the quilt, before sliding his hands under to rest upon her, as if she were the most precious of things. Then he sighed and let his head fall back, squeezing her involuntarily.  It wasn’t just Danny he’d missed touching and holding.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://www.flickr.com/photos/44404210@N04/8628066148/)


End file.
